Jason freezes when he hears Donnie’s voice. Shit. Jason realizes he should’ve known better. The stealth and speed-based moves, the bo, the purple accents throughout the outfit. It’s all obvious. He should’ve clocked all of that in much sooner. He was raised and trained by the world’s greatest detective. But no. He was too stupid to see that. He chose to be just a brutish thug. He was being a fuck-up again.

“What the hell?” He blurts out, still trying to comprehend what had really happened. Evidently, it wasn’t a case of some unknown spy intruding on him.